Dreamfall: The Longest Journey, The Novel
by Scorpio's Storyteller
Summary: The novelization of one of the greatest computer games ever played. Done for a friend. Enjoy. UPDATE: FULL CHAPTER ONE UP!
1. Prologue: Tainted

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Hello, again! 'Tis I! Shinoa!  
I know, this is not my original account, but I was quite surprised to hop on a long time ago to find that not only was my account deleted, but all the stories that went along with it. How rude! So, I made this one, under a new Pen name, because I like fancy pen names. This is something someone on my old account suggested I should do. I have no idea why, and he wanted The Longest Journey first, but I can't for the life of me change that game into a story that doesn't bore to pieces. So, here we have Dreamfall.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything really in here. The idea is not mine, the concept is not mine, and if you really want to know who thought this fabulousness all up, go play dreamfall, and press the credits button in the opening screen. Watch for five minutes. It'll bore you to hell, but you will see who all did this o.O. That being said, I DO own some things, such as how this is portrayed, and you will notice that sometimes I do not follow the game to the letter. I like to make things interesting instead of terribly boring.

This being said... Enjoy!  
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DREAMFALL: THE LONGEST JOURNEY

PROLOGUE: TAINTED

_**April 1933, Tibetan Monastery**_

The room was bare. Practically uninhabited, it seems. The bed, though made and tidy, looked hard, wooden, and with a pathetic pillow made of feathers and a little sheet to cover them. It was a prisoner's bed, almost. Not one most would chose to want to live in. Other than the bed, there was nothing in the room, save for the corner in the upper right, where a slanted desk stood. It was more suited for an actual living space than the bed. Made for an artist it would seem, and placed under the only window for lighting purposes. Wasting candles during the day was most expensive. Sitting at this little desk on a small wooden stool was an older man, only about 32 years old at the most. He was wearing well-worn clothing, and his shoes showed proof that he was a traveller, as his face also did, as it showed signs of wear, and long stubbles of hair lined his chin, to show days without a mirror. Hard brown eyes squinted at a well-used journal before him, messy starting grey-streaked hair occasionally falling into his eyes as he wrote.

_I am at the crossroads between waking and dream. One path leads back to the world I left behind. The other path... The other path leads to a place of shadows. Between the familiar and the unknown, between certainty and doubt, my choice would seem obvious. Any sane man would turn around, return to the world he knows, forget what he has learned, and live his life in blissful ignorance. But in truth, it is too late. My choice was made many years ago, when I first embarked on this journey. I cannot turn back. I am at a crossroads, but for me there is only one path. I leave behind these words in the hope that, someday, they will serve as a map for someone else. To whomever reads this, Godspeed on your journey. If you ever decide to follow in my footsteps, look me up._

_-Brian Westhouse_

Brian's name was not written in a beautified flourish as most would write their names in that time. He wrote it purposefully and legibly, so that there was no mistakes if someone were to find this and read it. Possibly follow him in his hopeful footsteps. He wanted them to know his name, be able to ask for him on the unknown streets he was about to wander on, discover what he was about to discover, and possibly come to share notes with him. Brian stared at his last words to be written in his journal with a small smile, put down his ball point pen, and closed the book for the last time, patting the top of is lovingly. The monks had promised him they would take care of his journal, keep it in prime condition, and ready for the next traveller that wished to follow in his footsteps. He and Manny had taken quite the time in getting up here, and he had put his faith in Brian that he would succeed in his quest. Manny, of course, had other things to do apparently. He said they would meet again if it were permitted. This made no sense to Brian of course, but then again, nothing Manny ever said made sense to Brian.

Thoughts of his travel here swam through his head, the hike up the windy mountain, Manny telling him not to give up, as the door to his room swung open with a quiet knock. In came the man who had pulled him off the cliffs not too long ago. The Superior Lama. The head priest of this monastery. His orange robes flowed down to his ankles, and the only part that covered his upper body was just one corner of his robe that seemed to be carelessly thrown over one shoulder. For decency, it was supposed. He looked at Brian with old crinkled eyes and opened his mouth to portray startlingly perfect teeth to speak to Brian in a Mandarin dialect. Having been in Tibet quite sometime, Brian had picked up the language, so at this stage, there was no struggling for understanding between the two. In his clear and important voice, the Superior Lama's instructions came out smoothly and slowly for Brian, still remembering when they had troubles at their first meeting. Translated to English, he told Brian "We are ready, traveller. Your journey is about to begin. Follow me." Brian nodded, and followed the small man out of his room. He left both his journal, and the bag tucked under the desk behind.

The lama led him down a decorative hall of monastery. Along the walls were Mani Wheels, little brass and bronze bell objects that had the mantra 'Om Mani Padme Hum' written in Mandarin upon them. Brian had been told they were a blessing. Knowing them not to be liars, or talkers for that matter, Brian tended to believe them. At the end of this hallway, there were two great doors, which two monks opened for himself and the Superior Lama. Inside was a huge round room, in the middle of which was a huge circular dais. Four monks sat praying on it in spots Brian assumed was the points on a compass. Before each of the monks was a nicely scented candle, in the middle of the dais, particular leaves and flower pedals had been strewn about with no apparent order to them, and finally, carvings Brian could not interpret had been long ago etched into the stone. He wondered what they meant, but it did not look to be Mandarin, so, he decided not to waste time asking their meaning. Instead, he wandered a bit to the left as he waited for his turn to be called, and casually eavesdropped on two monks hiding in the shadows. He caught the conversation half way through a high pitched voice.

"--ceremony. We waited long. Will he be the one?" A taller monk said, his features rather similar to the one he was speaking so quietly to. A brother maybe? Or a cousin? The shorter one opened his hands hopefully. "He is eager. He is open. He is perfect." His voice, in comparison was rather low. His taller companion answered rather negatively, "I hope you are right. He is our last hope..." The smaller one, that Brian now noted to be older, put his hands on the younger's shoulders. "Have faith. The undreaming will be unleashed, and it will--" The tall one finally caught Brian in the corner of his eyes and shushed the man across from him with his finger. "Quiet, brother. The walls have ears." Brian blinked at them as they almost immediately started to discuss the lovely weather they had been having, hands moving about animatedly. Soon he shook his head and turned his attention back on the Superior Lama, who seemed to be getting ready to call him over, which he did beckon to him two seconds after the two monks behind him started discussing what flowers they should plant in that pot near the door.

Upon stepping onto the steps on the Dais in front of the lama, the Superior Lama looked him over for a moment before stepping aside and holding a hand out to the middle of the dais behind him. "The ritual is ready. Step onto the dais, traveller." Brian nodded quietly and stepped up onto the Dais, going straight for the dead center. He turned back to look at the Superior Lama, who stared at him with his old eyes. Brian could swear he saw wonder there. Tilting his head, he looked down to realize he started to glow. In addition, the leaves and petals had started to lift up into the air. And he was so shocked with this fact, having never really been a religious man, despite his upbringings, that he didn't even notice until he felt the pull in his stomach that he himself was being lifted in the air. He would have clutched at his stomach and screamed if the sound had not seemed to catch in his throat, and the pull had moved into his arms. Finally, sound escaped in his lungs as the light got much too bright for his eyes and he screwed them shut and screamed.

Then he was gone from the Monastery.

_**Time within Time, Storytime**_

Suddenly Brian was standing, no harsh landing, or anything, on an icy blue plain. He looked around himself with mild curiosity, not having expected anything like this. It was as if the ground beneath him looked to be of ice, but felt like dirt. There was a ravine behind him; at least, it looked like it, and before him, there was a small hill, where Brian set eyes on the first non-earthling in his life. Gathering up his courage, he took a tentative step forward, checking to see if it was slippery on instinct, and then realizing that it was about as slippery as a piece of dry wood. Not thinking about how silly that must have looked, he marched up the hill to the tall and seemingly black man before him. He was bald, wearing a long purple robe, and had strange designs, similar to the one he had seen on the Dais, etched into his face with black ink. Strange eyes glared at him from behind the safety of his fire, hand clutching the staff in his hand, seemingly made from the warped dead tree beside him. This all caused Brian to gulp loudly as he approached him.

Finally, this man opened his mouth and pointed at him with his free hand, and out of his mouth poured English. "What--? What are you doing here? You cannot be here! It will find you!" Brian frowned, both from not expecting the English, and from wondering what exactly will be finding him. "I...don't..." He shook his head, remembering to ask the required questions first. "Where am I? What is this place?" The man scowled more, and flicked his hand at him as if shooing a stray dog. "How did you get here? Go back the way you came! Quickly! You cannot stay!" His staff started to raise up in his hand as the Man stared at something behind him. Brian stuttered in a small voice, a unusual thing for him, "I-I don't...know how to go--" The Man's staff moved to be held as well in his other hand, like a block, as his head hung. "It is here. What have you done?" He started to back away from his fire and Brian, "What have you done?" Brian shook his head, lost by everything this man said. "What do you mean? What--"

The man backed away more, almost ready to turn and run as his staff pointed to something behind Brian's head. "The Undreaming..." His voice was filled with both wonder and fear as Brian turned to see what he was pointing at, remembering the Undreaming from the Monk's conversation. He didn't see the man behind him bolt away. His eyes locked on the black tentacle like thing that seemed to be coming from a black hole in the sky. The tentacles twisted between themselves easily, and Brian started to stumble backwards, not caring the fire was right behind him. "...God. What...is that? What...?" Then the tentacles started to reach quickly for him, and Brian slipped onto the ground, narrowly missing the fire. He started to yell "No!" repeatedly as he struggled to get to his feet and run like the Man had. He failed. As he just got to his feet, the tentacles snatched him up and pulled him into the air, engulfing him in blackness within seconds.


	2. Chapter 1: One, Part One

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YAY second installment. Chapter one has been split in half for the obvious reason of I don't want you to get an eyesore half way down the page. You guys reading 5,000 - 10,000 words at a time may be a bit much to ask, so, I split it in half for you. And I am proud to introduce my beta writer, TheWolfLady [as usual ^^], who has already embarrassed me on the horrible mistakes in the prologue, and unfortunately it's too late to fix them. Oh dearie me. And for the American's reading this: Yes, I am Canadian, hence all that funny spelling you sometimes snicker at me for .. Not that I mind, but... really. I'm Canadian, I blame my incorrect spelling in the US on that, and the British who use it as well.

Same disclaimer as before, I is not repeating it. ^^. Enjoy.  
~Shinoa  
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DREAMFALL: THE LONGEST JOURNEY

CHAPTER 1: ONE

PART ONE

_**Thursday, February 4, 2219 Casablanca, Stark**_

_They say that every story has a beginning and an end. That might be true in most cases. Sometimes, however, the two are one and the same. _Welcome to a new time, and a new bed. This one was much more comfortable, with a white and poufy duvet and a fluffy pillow to match. It was also occupied. It held a girl of Asian decent, in her early twenties, raven black hair pulled back from her face, and eyes closed to hide their dark chocolate color. She was unmoving, and though she looks well fed, was not in the best of health. _My name is Zoë Castillo. I don't usually look this pale, but that's what you get for being in a coma._

At the foot of her bed sits a man, face strewn with grief, and cheeks stained with dried tears. He doesn't look at her, but at the monitor built into the baseboard of her bed, that shows a slow heartbeat, signifying she's in a coma. _That's my father, Gabriel. I'm all he's got in this world. My mother died fifteen years ago, and I don't have any siblings. I think he'll be very lonely when I'm gone. I wish I could've talked to him one last time, let him know that everything will be okay. But that would be a lie. The only thing I could have said...is goodbye. _Oddly enough, she looks as if she's smiling despite her condition.

_Since I'm lying in that bed, but I'm talking to you from out here, I guess this is what they call an out of body experience. I'm not sure anyone can hear me, but I've had some experience with voices from the grave recently, so I'm giving it a shot. Bad things are happening, and everyone who knows the truth is either dead or has vanished off the face of the Earth. If I can get through to someone, anyone, maybe something can be done. So if you can hear me, please listen. This is very, very important. It might just be the most important thing ever. You'll have to forgive me for using the oldest cliché in the book: It all began when..._

_**Thursday, January 21, 2219 Casablanca, Stark**_

Upon her purple and pillow engulfed bed, a much happier Zoë lies on her stomach staring at the built in TV on her window. Her room was rather tidy, though filled with some boxes that are packed tightly with things she hadn't bothered to unpack when she came home from University. An entire half of her room was windows, and she had a sliding door leading to a porch on the other side of those windows. Also at the very corner of her room, she had her own tiny bathroom. An all around amazing room, and Zoë loved it. Her feet pumped in the air happily, as she watched her high definition screen on her window, not bothered at all that she was only wearing a pair of underwear and a tank top when anyone across the way could easily look through her windows and see her. She was much too interested in the TV.

A woman on the news with a huge nametag saying "Diane" and an obviously redone plastic face was smiling at her colleague in such a manner that had to be more than professional, and an over enthusiastic steamy voice was just finishing her little blurb of the day: "--causing the unfortunate cow to implode. Ryan?" Her eyelashes batted at her colleague, the named Ryan, and he, about as perfect as a Ken doll, took it all in as flattery. He put on a supposedly dazzling smile and a horrible Italian accent. "Mooo! That's a spicy meatball!" He suddenly dropped it, possibly because someone in the background doing the film waved him to stop. "To err is human, to forgive is bovine! I'm running out of cow jokes here, people! Thanks, Diane!" Suddenly he became very serious, and started at the camera in a very direct manner. "The Static has been blamed for chain collision this morning on the crosstown express, killing one person and injuring five. Witnesses say that a delivery truck lost Wire contact and manual systems failed to take over, causing it to hit another vehicle." Suddenly the camera switched to Diane, attempting to look serious, though it was obvious her plastic surgery was almost causing her to not be able to. "This accident coincides with a new report from CTU, claiming 'definitive evidence' that the Static is caused by heavy sunspot activity. The report has already come under fire from several--"

Suddenly the screen turned to white noise, and Zoe frowned at her TV suspiciously. Seemingly, from the static a small, childish, and whispery voice called out "...Zoë..." There was no particular emotion to the voice, and Zoë leaned forward to squint at the picture and listen harder, not sure if she heard what she had thought she heard or not. Then the screen suddenly flashed, causing Zoë to jump back quickly as her TV portrayed a big wintery plain with a doll like, black, and particularly nightmarish house floating in the middle. It wasn't sitting on anything, it was quite literally floating. Zoë blinked many times at the TV, and then suddenly there was a girl standing there. Her head was down, black hair tumbling messily over white skin and a white dress, her arms crossed over a doll being held to her chest. A little likeness of her, though with it's head up and proud. The childish, but unnerving voice called out to her again. "Find her. Save her." Zoë was rather shaky now, and the girls words echoed at her until finally, the screen flickered twice, and returned to the two anatomically correct news casters. Zoë stared at her TV for a moment, slender lips parted slightly in a look of bothered awe. Finally, she spoke to herself, to shake herself out of it. "What was that? Must be some kind of viral ad..."

And just like that, the whole moment was brushed away, as especially at that moment, Wonkers, her Watilla, got up from his spot and robotically made his way to hop up onto Zoë's bed. A Watilla was kind of interesting form of internet service, and it connected to the Wire, which connected everything electronic. They were shaped as little gorillas, were personalized, could get to know you, and could tell you anything you wished. Even that you are about to have a phone call. Wonkers was a purple one, and programmed to be a boy. Zoë had had him since she was a little girl, about the age of four, after her mother died. They were a good play toy for an only child. Even played games. Now Zoë kept him to help her keep on track. Wonkers tapped Zoë's shoulder and said in a very happy sounding but at the same time manly voice, "Zoë, there's a message." Zoë stared blankly at him for a moment before her eyes widened as she came to her sense again. "My mobile's beeping!" She fumbled out of bed and turned off her TV, reaching for her cell phone quickly. She flipped through it with experienced speed, and then read her message aloud, as if talking to Wonkers. This was normal, even if Wonkers was a robot. "'This is an automatic reminder sent by...' Shit. The gym. I have to hurry." She practically threw on clothing, a simple pink tank top, a pair of jeans, and running shoes, before clipping her phone onto her useless belt, tying her hair in a messy ponytail, and jumping down the stairs to the bottom floor.

She was now standing in her kitchen, possibly the cleanest place in the house, which was because Gabriel and she had a good system for keeping it clean: Don't use it. Sitting in front of the only thing they did use in the kitchen, the coffee machine, was her father Gabriel himself. He was wearing a dark blue bathrobe and sipping a small cup of black coffee happily. "Good morning, Zoë." He said casually upon noticing her. Zoë stole a look at the clock on the microwave. "Dad? What are you still doing home?" She made for the fridge, looking for something she could quickly drink before leaving. "Having my coffee." Gabriel answered her in a matter of fact tone, "The train's not leaving until one o'clock, so I thought I'd sleep in for a change." Zoë pulled a health and energy drink out of the back of the fridge that tasted like a banana colada and blinked at him. "Train? What train?" "The train for Bombay." Zoë's face moved into that of confusion. "Bombay?"

"Good Lord, Zoë." Gabriel frowned and turned to stare at her. "Did you forget already? We spoke about it on Tuesday. I'm going on a business trip to Bombay. Remember?" Zoë stared at him for a second and then realization came upon her as she remembered their small talk they had had over Chinese takeout on Tuesday. "Oh. Bombay. Right. I thought that was next...wait, is today Thursday?" She put the hand that wasn't holding her energy drink to her forehead and then moved to quickly open her drink to hide her embarrassment. "How pathetic is that? I don't even know what day it is anymore." She took a quick drink from it, marveling for a second at the taste, as Gabriel's frown turned to amusement. "Well, at least you're up before noon. That's something. So, do you have any plans this morning? I mean, what's left of it?" He held back a small laugh. Zoë shrugged and thought a bit. "Um...I'm going to the gym." "See? You still have passion for something." Gabriel downed his last bit of coffee and then put it in the sink. Zoë shrugged and cradled her drink, foot scuffing the floor. "It's either that or scan the wanted ads and get depressed about all the jobs I don't qualify for."

Her father cleaned up his small mess and looked at her over his shoulder. "If you feel that way, why don't you go back to school?" A sigh escaped from Zoë automatically as she shook her head. "Dad. Don't start." Gabriel turned to her and took a fatherly tone. "I'm sorry, Zoë, but you're obviously not happy here either. Change your major. Biotech's not the only thing Cape Town's got to offer. Hell, why not change universities? I'll help you. In fact, Bombay's got a great school for bioengineering. I could stop by while I'm there." Zoë closed her eyes and put up a hand for him to stop. "We've had this discussion already. I wish it was that easy." She looked up at him with angry eyes. "Don't you think I miss having direction and ambition? Now, I'm just... I just don't know what I want. Can you please understand that? I need time." Her father sighed heavily. "Fine, I won't push. I'm happy to have you home, Zoë. I just hate to see you like this." "So do I, Dad. So do I." Zoë downed her drink and then took another quick peek at the time.

"I should hurry. I was supposed to be at the gym already. Have a nice trip, okay?" She made for the door, but stopped when she reached for the handle. "So you're not sure when you're coming back?" Gabriel shrugged, signifying 'no'. "It could take a while, depending on how the inspections go. And I have some...other business to take care of in Bombay." He looked at the floor. Being a naturally curious person, Zoë pushed the subject, "Really? What is it?" "Oh, just...work stuff." Her father smiled his famous half smile, meaning he meant to tell her, but he can't. "There are several biotechs headquartered in Bombay, and I need to take some meetings. Call me if there's anything. If I don't pick up right away, it means I'm in a meeting or inside a secure facility. I promise I'll call you back as soon as I can." He looked sad about it. Zoë could imagine why. Ever since he had become a manager instead of just a simple Biotech engineer, her father had been wearing suits and getting stuck in meetings. She knew he missed his old lab coat, and there was nothing she could say to make him feel better about it. So, instead, she gave him a short wave. "Bye, Dad." He waved back slowly. "Bye bye, sweetheart. Be good, okay?" She opened the door and nodded at him. "Yeah," walking out she closed the door behind her and shook her head. "Yeah."

Casablanca, Morocco was not the old city it used to be. Ever since the world wide Collapse, when her and her father lived in London, things hand changed quite a bit. Morocco looked like a more modern version of what it used to be. Everything here was made of yellow wash so that it resembled the historical Morocco, which it sure as hell was not. Behind these yellow wash walls where actual walls, so that people were living in proper living conditions, and not 'roughing it' as many people would say. The Castillo's lived in a richer part of town, though not in a very big house. They lived for comfort instead of grandeur, and their little house and neat neighbourhood served them well. All the houses looked the same, and you couldn't get a car in there for your life, but, at least it was cozy.

As Zoë opened the gate that led to her and her next-door neighbour, and air ship flew overhead. Though she was quite used to it by now, Zoë still liked to watch them go by. They were beautiful things, powered by Hydrogen so it looked like clouds were going by, and it glittered with all the shiny white and metal fittings. It was flying to the landing port on the other side of the city, which Zoë couldn't even see from her high spot, for it was beyond the horizon of towers and huge buildings. The moment over, Zoë shrugged and made her way down the stairs in between the gates that lead to other houses. She took them at a jog. They were not little steps but huge slab steps, so she didn't worry about loosing her footing. It wasn't a long run to her Gym, but no matter what she did, she knew she'd be late.

At the end of this corridor between houses was an electronics store ran by her best friend Olivia, known to Zoë as 'Liv'. Liv loved her store, and anything to do with modern technology. She could get anything in the world for you in at least a day. And when she says anything, she can guarantee everything. As Zoë came nearer to her little shop, Liv herself was standing outside playing with something that looked like a crystal ball, but probably was a video surveillance device of some sort. Liv did not look like your average technology nut. In fact, if anything, she looked like a modern hippy. Her dark black hair was scrunched up into mini dreadlocks, which framed a beautiful face of a Moroccan background. She was wearing sheaths all over the place, like the bohemian look, and the colors were all bright. One could never say she was dull. Liv's eyes tore themselves from her toy as she noticed Zoë jogging up the way, and automatically started to slide to her. "Morning, sweetie! Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Zoë slowed down for her friend, despite knowing she is going to be late, and walked quickly towards her store. "Hi, Liv. I'm going to the gym and I'm running a bit late, so--" As usual, Liv cut her off, "Hey, listen, I've got something you should take a look at. You're not in a rush, are you?" She looked at her with big hopeful eyes, and Zoë sighed exasperatedly. Liv was excited about something, and thus, nothing else could be important to her, much less what you just said two seconds ago. Zoë was used to it, but she hoped she didn't have to repeat herself ten plus times like she had had to last time. "I can't be late again. Jama's going to lecture me about my lack of commitment." The last sentence she imitated her gym instructors accent and flowing voice. Liv giggled, and let it go, luckily. "Okay, sweetie. Later? You really need to see this." Liv was almost bouncing in her little wedged sandals. Zoë smiled, "Sure. I'll pop in after I'm done." The two exchanged a knowing grin, Liv returning to her shop, and Zoë rushing off down the stairs to the left that led to the market place.

It was a quick jog through the automated market place, filled with pillows and nice places to sit, and a small coffee shop tucked away in the corner, then through the taxi stop which lead to the highway and the city, up a steep set of stairs, and finally, Zoë was at the gym. She didn't stop running there. She smashed through the doors and ran to the women's changing rooms, donning her gym gear in almost record timing. Two girls at their lockers just stared at her as she saluted them and jogged back out of the locker room and up the stairs, where she found Jama, her instructor. Jama was a Kung Fu expert, and currently, she was slowly working through one of her many dances. She was from China, and she was always well put together and tight. Her black hair was tightly wrapped in a bun, her black belt tied very tightly around her waist. Zoë walked up to her slowly and quietly, hopping that maybe she could trick Jama into thinking she'd been there entire time, but this was not to be.

"You're late." Came Jama's slight accented and deep voice. There was no emotion in her face as she said it, but it was obvious Jama was disappointed. She was doing her dance still, so one could say she was just concentrating, but her diciples knew better. Zoë's head hung. "I'm sorry, I was just--" Jama cut her off, having heard the exact same excuse over and over. "Don't be sorry. Be on time." Zoë flinched, despite the fact Jama lacked in an ability to be angry. "It won't happen again." She said quietly. Jama turned her dance around so she could look at Zoë properly. "I doubt that. You lack commitment, Zoë. You're my most talented student, but talent isn't everything. You don't take our work seriously anymore. You're wasting both your time and mine." Her words were sharp, unlike her movements. "I'm sorry, Jama. It just doesn't seem to matter as much to me as it used to." Jama stopped her dance, unusual, since she was in the middle of a pose, and struck Zoë with a level stare from her gold-flecked eyes. "It's not that martial arts needs to be such an important part of your life. But passion is always important. If you lack passion for what you do, it's not worth doing. But let's leave it at that and get started on today's lesson."

The two girls assumed positions on the mat, and they were not allowed to leave it during their spar. Zoë had gotten to the point that now her lessons were a matter of beating Jama, as she always added something new each day. She said there was not much more she could teach Zoë but to be ready for the unexpected. "Ready?" Her teacher appraised her from across the mat. "Go." They stood there for about a second, and then Zoë lightly ran at Jama, throwing a punch directly at her face. Jama blocked it easily, and Zoë threw another directly at her stomach. That one was caught by Jama and held. Nothing new yet. Zoë threw an open hand at Jama's arm to release it, and they flew apart for a second. So far, nothing really amazing. They circled each other for a moment, arms up and ready for each other if one of them came running at the other. It was then Zoë already got her new thing she had to beat. Jama came running at her, looking like she was about to throw a punch, but feigned just as Zoë's hand came up to catch that punch, spun, and made to slam her knee into Zoë's side. Zoë didn't get that quite in time, and stumbled to the side, though luckily not off the mat and still standing. Ok, this lesson was more about defence. Zoë knew what to look for now. Jama came at her again, and repeated her movements. This time, Zoë made to block her punch again, and then followed through to catch Jama's leg before it came anywhere near her. Her leg then came out to pull Jama's other foot out from under her, and Jama went crashing to the ground when Zoë pulled up on her knee.

Jama laughed from her spot on the ground and appraised her. "Excellent work, Zoë." She flipped up onto her feet and slapped her hands together. The spar took seconds, but both of them knew that they only had little time due to Zoë being late. "That was good, Zoë, you're improving, about time. Ready for another round?" Zoë caught Jama's quick and worried look at the clock behind her, and Zoë shook her head. "No, I think I've had enough for today." She said, faking heavy breathing a bit to make it seem like she really had had enough. Jama nodded, putting her hands on her hips. "Very well. We'll pick it up again tomorrow. And do try to be on time." Zoë flinched a bit at the reminder and nodded, making for the door. Just above the stairs there was a shut off TV and on top of it was a digital clock showing the time, 1 in the afternoon. Zoë was just about to go down the stairs when the screen flickered on. The little girl she had seen that morning on her own TV stood very close to the screen, glaring at her almost from behind her black hair. "...Zoë... ...find April Ryan...save her..." the voice was the same as before, quiet and whispery, and Zoë turned her head to see if anyone else in the gym was staring with her. No one was even looking in her direction. When she turned her head back to the screen, it was off again. Zoë gulped, and reached up to turn the TV back on. The news flickered on, muted. She shook her head, turned off the TV again, and rushed downstairs in what could seem like panic.


	3. Chapter 1: One, Part Two

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And part two! Sorry for how long that took to get up. I had it finished a while ago, but I had no internet x.x! Ok, I did in a manner, but not really. So. Here it is for you in all it's 10 page in Word glory x.x. I think I split the chapters in half in a really bad spot now.

Anyway, same as before, disclaimer is in the prologue, please go back if you want to know it. This time, the Wolf Lady was not available to catch all my stupid and epic bad mistakes, but that's ok, just, pardon all of the mistakes if they do pop up o.o. And thank you for those few favourites and story watches. Must mean I'm doing something right ^^.

REVIEWS:

ExtremeRainbowRaiderPrincess: Can I call you ERRP [you be a noise I make XD]? O.o. That name took me forever to type before I remembered the good old copy paste! *facepalm*. Yeah, poor Zoë, but it must be done!!! And thank you ^^.

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DREAMFALL: THE LONGEST JOURNEY

CHAPTER 1: ONE

PART TWO

_**Thursday, January 21, 2219 Casablanca, Stark**_

Zoë was shaking uncontrollably as she showered and made to leave the gym. Practically didn't hear the jaunty tune on her hip that was Liv's personal ring tone. She shakily picked up her phone as she slowly walked down the steep stairs to the taxi pick up, trying to make her voice sound normal to Liv. "Hey Liv." It wasn't the best answer, but at least she managed it without stuttering. "Hey, are you done?" Came Liv's enthusiastic voice over the phone, sounding a little less wary of the device than usual. Liv was slightly paranoid. She always thought she was under constant surveillance through her phone. Which everyone was in a manner, but she had always figured she was more heavily watched than everyone else was. That's paranoia for you. "I just got out. I'm on my way." Zoë said simply, her steps slowing as she talked. "Coolness." Liv cooed at her. "I have an appointment later this afternoon, so I just wanted to make sure you remembered." She would have forgotten. This is what friends are for. Zoë nodded, though Liv wasn't even looking at her. "I'll be there in a few minutes." Now Zoë started to run, probably because Liv's presence meant no weird screen static. "See ya!" Liv said and there was an audible click as both of them snapped their phones shut.

Liv's store, lovingly named Alien the Cat for no particular reason at all, was Liv's life. Little does she stray from it's beaded door way. She even lives right above it in a technologically advanced flat, which you reach via a tube elevator. Upon Zoë's arrival through her sixties themed door way, she was met with a collective "Hello Zoë!" from the many new Watilla's lining the walls. It sounded like a chorus, oddly enough, despite all their different voices. Zoë did a short wave at them as she walked down the small stairs into the little store, where half the things on the walls Zoë couldn't even identify. Just because she had a technology nut for a best friend didn't mean she knew what on earth she did. As mentioned before, Liv was paranoid, and Zoë sometimes was not exempt from that paranoia. Liv herself was playing wide eyed with her usually hated cell phone, apparently amazed at some new technology, which Zoë assumed was why she had been summoned here. As she set foot on the actual bottom floor, the screen above Liv's head flickered a bit and showed the noisy picture with the little girl again. She didn't say anything, but just stared wildly at Zoë, before blinking out.

Zoë shuddered and spoke up, forgetting the usual salutations. "Hey, did you see that?" Liv looked up from her phone and a hand moved to her hip as she took in Zoë's horrified face. "See what, sweetie?" Zoë walked towards her, thus taking the screen out of her direct view and pointed up at it. "On the screen. I saw the same thing earlier today. It was like... I don't quite know how to describe it. Like interference, but not just noise. It was clear, but...distorted. Like a bad dream." Liv blinked at her words and looked up at her blank screen, obviously not really making heads or tails out of it, and shrugged. "Mmm, no. Could've been the Static. It's been getting worse by the day. I even got disconnected from the Wire for a few moments this morning. Scariest moment of my life since the Collapse... not counting that time I rode the mechanical bull. Never again." Zoë giggled despite the moment, and her fear was passed. "So what did you see?" Liv smiled and poked her lightly. Zoë made a list of things she saw and counted them off her fingers. "There's this snowy landscape with a black house...and a little girl who looks like a ghost. And she speaks to me. 'Save her, find her'. Really, really freaky stuff." Zoë looked sheepish, her own words sounding stupid to her. "Wow. That is scary." Liv took it to be true with her quirky nature and trust of Zoë. "I haven't seen that, I definitely would've remembered. Are you sure you just haven't been watching too many horror movies lately? I mean, spend enough hours in front of the screen, and you're bound to start seeing stuff." Zoë shook her head angrily. "Don't you start with that, too, Liv. I'm already feeling guilty enough as it is." Liv put her hands up in mock defeat. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean anything--"

"No, it's okay. It's me." Zoë cut her off with a sigh. "I don't know what's going on with me. I can barely get out of bed in the morning. Every day's exactly the same, and I'm not doing anything to change that. There's no school to go to, no job, and I barely spend time with my friends. What's left of them." Liv shook her head and flicked her hand in a 'pshaw' manner "I see you all the time, don't I? You haven't abandoned me." Zoë pointed out the door. "No, but that's because it's so easy to come here. If it requires any more effort on my part... And that goes for everything. I'm on autopilot." "It's probably exhaustion, sweetie." Liv put her hand that wasn't holding her suddenly loved cell phone on Zoë's arm, her being shorter than Zoë, and not really able to reach her shoulder with her clothing style. "You've had a tough year. You dropped out of school, broke up with Reza, moved back home. All of that's bound to take its toll, no?" Zoë sighed and nodded. "You're probably right. And I do complain way too much, don't I? I don't want to be the whiny, apathetic Zoë. I want to be me again. Anyway. Enough about me. You wanted to show me something?"

Liv looked confused for a moment, her eyes slitting to stare at Zoë. "What was that, sweetie?" Zoë raised her eyebrows, and Liv finally remembered the cellphone in her hand and her eyes widened in excitement. "Oh, yeah, that's right. It's something really cool!" For some odd reason, Liv's remembrance made Zoë remember some plans she was thinking of a little while back, for when her father was gone. She put a hand on Liv's lips quickly, and Liv took on a startled appearance. "Oh, sorry, before I forget... Dad's out of town, and I'm having some people over tonight. Would you like to come?" Liv's eyes narrowed as she thought again, "I was going to unpack a new delivery tonight but" her head bobbed from side to side as she switched about her schedule. "...sure! Work can always wait. Who's coming?" Zoë shrugged, "The usual suspects." Liv practically bounced. "Great. Sounds fun. How about Reza? I haven't seen him in ages. I really miss him. Any chance you guys are getting back together soon?" Her eyes were wide, hopeful. Liv had always loved Zoë and her ex, the named Reza, together. Zoë shook her head with a touch of sadness in her eyes. "He's not the right guy for me at this point. I mean, I love him to death. He's great. But... It was getting too serious. What I mean is, I was getting too serious. It was just way early for that. And that whole long distance thing was becoming a problem for us. It's pretty ironic that as soon as we're broken up, I move back here, five minutes away from his apartment. Not that it makes a difference. I'm just happy we're still friends, and that we're comfortable with each other. You and him are my two best friends. I don't ever want to lose that. But getting back together? Nope. Besides, I don't think he'll be coming to the party. He's been really busy. So...eightish?" She changed the subject quickly. Liv grinned. "I'll bring my charm and a bottle of tequila. Now! I have something to show you."

"What is it?" Zoë tilted her head, and Liv shoved her phone up in the air and said in a rather triumphant manner, "WSL suppresser software!" Zoë stared at her blankly. She had no idea what that was, but for some odd reason, felt as if she should. It sounded a bit familiar, but she just couldn't put her thumb on it. Not wanting to admit this, however, she gave Liv a whimsical look. "Okay. Let's pretend for a second that I haven't a clue what you're talking about." Liv chuckled. "Can do." She smiled and started to gesture at her cell phone. "It's like a...a cloak for your mobile. Want to be invisible? Just tap the screen!" Liv frowned a bit, and then started to tap her own screen. "Well, actually, you select 'menu' and 'applications', and then the icon that looks like a penguin, and then 'activate', but that's like…" she counted on her fingers "One...two...three... Okay, four taps. Small price to pay, seeing as you're now invisible, right?" Zoë was amused by Liv's explanation process, but still had to understand her friend better. "I don't get it. I'm invisible?" Liv shook her head, and flicked her hands at her. "No, you're not invisible. That's impossible, except with a very, very expensive combat suit, and those things don't hold up to a can of spray paint." She put up her index finger in a 'matter of fact' manner. "What this little hack does is make your mobile invisible to the Eye in the Sky. You're untraceable. The Syndicate can't track your mobile. Mondo cool, huh?" The Eye in the Sky was Liv's paranoid name for the Wire, and the Syndicate were the police force that enforces the law of the Wire. In other words, this hack was most likely illegal, and that's why it was a penguin icon.

Zoë nodded, impressed, if not overly amused by Liv's performance. "That is cool. How does it work? You just, what, wire it to my mobile?" Liv nodded happily, "Yup. Easy as strawberry pie. Gimme a second, and I'll--" Liv's mobile rings and both girl's heads snap at it in curiosity to hide their jump. Liv squints at it suspiciously, and then her eyes go wide "Oops. This is, like, important, sweetie. I'm buying a batch of exclusive Ethiopian mobiles directly from the factory, real cheap. So I gotta--" Zoë put her hands up and started to back up. "Take it! I'll see you later." Liv nodded and pressed a button on her mobile, pointing at her with her free hand. "I'll hook you up with the software when you come back, okay?" She then flicked her short hair importantly and put the phone to her ear, a strong, and unrecognizable language coming from her mouth "Tadiyass, Alem! Dehna neh?" Zoë shook her head and tiptoed her way out of the store, and upon her arrival outside the beaded doors, her own mobile rings, and Zoë sighed heavily at the ringtone.

She brought her phone up very slowly to her ear, hoping that the one on the other end would hang up thinking she wasn't there, but it was not to be, she could hear him breathing on the other end, and he could probably hear her. "Hi, Reza." "Hello." Came his calm voice over the phone, "Are you busy?" Zoë looked about for something to busy herself with. Somehow, cleaning the walls outside Alien the Cat's did not seem like a good enough excuse. "Mmm, not really. Why?" Zoë bit her lip and waited for some get back together answer that she really did not want to deal with currently. Reza suddenly sounded urgent. "I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at Moca Loco?" His words sounded like a please, but how he said it made it sound like an order, telling Zoë it was just really important to him. She nodded. "Sure. When?" "Now? I'm already on my way there." Zoë frowned a bit, as he started to sound hectic, and made a positive hum into the phone. "All right. I'll see you in a couple of minutes." "Great. See you there." Both of them snapped their phones shut, and Zoë made her way back to the market place, sure that Reza was probably actually already sitting there.

The Moca Loco was a small place, a place for people to sit and have a quick coffee while they shopped. Reza was sitting in a far corner, animatedly talking on a phone. He didn't have a drink at all, so he obviously wasn't there to actually sit down and chat for a long time over coffee. It was a landmark, nothing more. A place they both knew. Reza was an intensive journalist. He got right into people's business, nosed around, worked horrible secrets out of big time companies. He didn't look like a snoop really, actually, he was always put together, smart looking. He always dressed casually though, to be looked over when the Syndicate scanned the crowd for him. Currently he looked somewhat sick, like he hadn't really slept in a while. Which meant one of two things really, he either was seeing someone new, or he was working hard on something important. Zoë hoped for the latter, but promised herself she wouldn't be hurt if it were a new woman. She made her way over to him and sat beside him, waving at him and patiently waiting for him to get off the phone.

"Hey. One moment." He said, acknowledging her, the speaking into his phone. "Rio? Yeah, call me when you're all set up. I'm with a friend. Okay. Bye." He snapped his phone shut and put it in it's holster, and then smiled at her. "Who was that?" Zoë asked automatically, her curiosity always getting the better of her. Reza frowned playfully. "Well, hello to you too, Zoë." Zoë shrugged. "Hello. So who was that?" Reza laughed at her, "It's good to know that some things never change." He shook his head. "It was just business." Zoë shook her head. "I'm curious, that's all. I'm happy you're dating again." Oh that wasn't forward or anything. She jumped right into that one. She wondered if it showed on her face. He looked startled. "It's not a date, it's just--" Zoë brushed it away with a hand. "Business. I know. I just don't want you to feel awkward talking about that stuff with me. We're past that." Reza shook his head amusedly. "Noted. I'll make sure to tell you about all my romantic adventures...if they ever happen." He looked distant for a moment, and then put on a fake smile. "So how are you?" Zoë didn't press the look. "I'm good. Dad left for Bombay today, so I got the house to myself. I'm having a few people over tonight." Reza's smile moved to a more natural one. "Party?" Zoë shrugged. "Officially, it's a..." She put her fingers up to imitate quotations "'small get-together.'" She suddenly heard Liv's voice ringing in her head, and considered her request about Reza, and hesitantly asked him, for Liv's sake. "By the way, if you have time... I mean, you're welcome to... You can bring anyone you want. It's just a few people. Nothing big." He looked a bit grateful, but also hesitant. "I wish I could, but I have some...stuff to take care of. Work stuff. I'm really sorry, I wish--" Zoë broke him off quickly. "Don't worry about it. It's no big deal. Next time, okay?" Reza nodded, and there was an awkward silence for a moment.

Finally, Zoë spoke up, hating silences. "What's going on with you, Reza? You've been busy. Working on a story?" Reza nodded and wiped his eyes. "Neck deep...as usual. I've gotten about five hours worth of sleep in the last, what, seventy-two hours?" That would explain the black marks under his eyes. Deep into a story that he was interested in would keep him up that long, not a woman. Zoë should have known that. "Sounds like you're onto something big." Reza's eyes lit up a bit. "It could be. I haven't taken it to the Hand yet. I haven't even talked to Martin about it. I need more background, more research, but it's looking... It's looking pretty big." The Hand was the Magazine company that worked with great scandals, The Hand that Bites, they called themselves, to match the Eye in the Sky. "Can you tell me anything about it?" Zoë asked. Reza shook his head sadly. "I can't. I'm sorry." Zoë hung her head a bit, "No problem. I didn't mean to pry." He shrugged with a comforting smile. "I know you didn't. You're just being your inquisitive and curious self."

Zoë shook her head "I really don't feel like myself anymore." Reza put a hand on her shoulder tentatively. "Are you okay?" Zoë looked at his hand and then at him. "I am. I should be. I don't have any reason to complain. My Dad's been supportive, I have everything I could possibly need, enough money to go anywhere I want... The thing is, I don't really care about anything anymore. I don't have any goals or ambitions. And I hate feeling like this. It's not me." Her hands clenched into fists. "But you've felt like that for a while, though, haven't you? I mean, it's what you told me when you broke up with--" He drifted off for decency's sake. "I know, Reza. But I thought it was just a passing phase, and now... Now it's starting to worry me. Is this how I'm going to be feeling for the rest of my life? I feel like I'm letting everyone down. I can't even muster up the enthusiasm, or the courage, to go down to Cape Town to visit Katrina and David. What does that tell you?" She was ranting, Reza didn't even know her old friends Katrina and David, and she didn't know why she was even bothering in the first place. Reza, probably. He could get anything out of anyone if he really wished it. He probably had words of wisdom for her in a moment. "That you're just stuck in a rut. That's all. And it's only been a couple of months since you left Cape Town. You deserve a break." Zoë shook her head, and he patted her shoulder. "I know you're trying to make me feel better. And I appreciate that. But... I don't know. I need more than reassurances at this point. I need something to get me up in the mornings. A direction in life. A purpose. Something to--"

A sound broke her speech. Reza's phone, he looked at it quickly and his breath caught in his throat. "Shit. Sorry, I have to take this one." Zoë nodded silently as he flicked his phone up to his ear, also taking his hand off her shoulder. "Yeah?" He was silent for a moment as someone urgently talked to him through the phone. Zoë could hear their fast words through the head set. "Thanks. Okay, I'll be back soon. Just stay there." He closed his phone and turned to Zoë again. "Sorry about that, Zoë. I'm a bit stressed today. You were saying?" Zoë smiled and brushed it off. "Don't worry about it, I know you've got stuff to do. Speaking of that, you said on the phone you wanted to talk. What's up?" He bit his lip. "I need a favour."

Zoë didn't think twice about it, she'd complained to him, it was the least she could do. "Sure. I don't have any other plans this afternoon." Reza's face lit up. "Great. It's nothing big. I just need you to go downtown and pick something up for me." Zoë nodded. "What is it?" Reza turned to face her excitedly. "Do you know where the Seshadri Building is located?" Zoë thought for a second and shook her head "Mmm, nope." Reza's hands became animated as he showed her ghostlike with his hands generally where it was. "It's not far from the Hub. There's a company there called Jiva, a biotech lab run by a woman named Chang. Helena Chang. All I need you to do is pick up a package from her. She's expecting me, but I don't have time right now, and I need that package as soon as possible. I don't want to use a courier, simply because it's...sensitive material. Chang was quite insistent that I come pick it up in person. I'll send her a message and tell her you're picking it up instead. Is that all right? I mean, you don't mind, do you?" He looked desperate almost. "Not at all." Zoë said easily, and summarized what he had said.. "Seshadri Building, Jiva, Helena Chang, package. As soon as possible." His face turned stern. "And come to my apartment as soon as you have the package, okay? I'll get the Hand That Bites to pay you for a couple of hours work." Zoë waved that away. "Don't worry about it. I'm not doing this for the feed, Reza, I'm doing it for you." Reza looked relieved. "Thanks. I really appreciate it." Zoë got up, and Reza followed her after a second, fingering his phone. "I guess I should get going. And you need to go do...whatever it is you're doing. Business. Top secret stuff. I'll see you in a bit." Reza smiled and started to walk back towards his apartment. "Thanks again for helping me out, Zoë." Zoë waved and made for the taxi stop.

Taxi's were automatic in most cities around the world now. There was no driver, just an automated vehicle attached the Wire, which, being attached to all other vehicles, made them safer to be in, and never able to have an accident. It was a simple matter of telling the computer where you wanted to go, the Wire would pick that up, and send you on the quickest and safest route to your destination. Even had a little happy female voice that would tell you "hello" when you got in, and talk to you if you wished it. Just like a real taxi driver. Zoë didn't really like talking to them. Usually she just sat in what usually is the driver's seat, though it was only a passenger's seat in a taxi, and stared at the other people going by in their cars. There were no flying cars in this age either. There were balloons and the odd bus that did indeed fly around, but that was for the rich and famous, not for someone like Zoë.

The Taxi brought her into the city, and then made for a shoot like tunnel that went down into the underground. This was a network of underground streets that Taxi's used to let people out at their destination without them having to worry about being jostled by other vehicles. It was rare you saw anyone down here, as it was only the Wire that knew which tunnel belonged to which building, but sometimes you saw the odd bum or person using an elevator short cut. Finally, her taxi stopped at a particular glass tunnel that leads to a see-through elevator. Zoë hopped out and stretched, glad to walk after the constricting vehicle. It was a quick trip to the glass elevator, and a quick selection by voice of which company she wished to visit that day. After learning her request and sending it through to the Wire, she was shuttled straight up to the 167th floor, where the words "JIVA" was etched in huge letters along the specialized, air pocket doors. Zoë wondered what it stood for really, but decided not to pry.

She noticed that she was the only one in the waiting room, and made her way casually to the receptionist, who was definitely part of the new age crowd. Her hair had been removed and replaced with an implant, which made it easy to change one's hair color at will. Long shades covered her eyes, which meant she supposedly wore glasses, but preferred to look cool about it. They looked like sunglasses, though one must admit, wearing sunglasses inside was a bit pointless. Her lipstick matched her hair, purple, and had a little line going vertically down her chin, the newest fad these days, and Zoë found she automatically could not stand what she was wearing. A black leather cat suit, which was tight right until her legs, where they ballooned out as if they would on a pirate outfit, carefully accentuated her obviously fake bosom. The balloon pant legs were then tucked into black leather high-heeled boots that came up to her knees. Not someone Zoë would even consider becoming friendly with under any circumstance. She was a natural sort of person. She tried not to scowl when the receptionist's attention fell on her. She stood up straight and stared at her, hands on her hips, probably annoyed that Zoë had taken her attention from whatever was on her computer screen.

"Who are you?" The receptionist snapped at her rudely, her voice a girly sound and not at all intimidating like her style. Zoë pointed a stare at her right back, finding it rather unfortunate she actually couldn't see the girls eyes due to the glasses. "I'm here to pick up a package from Ms Chang. My name is Zoë Castillo." The receptionist hesitated for a moment, before finally choosing an answer in that implanted head of hers. "She's...not here right now. I don't know anything about a package. You'll have to come back tomorrow. We're closed." Zoë frowned at her a little, and then turned her head back to the door, where a happy little "open!" flashed under the JIVA sign. Zoë looked back at the girl and raised an eyebrow, not feeling at all comfortable with this, but knowing Reza had an appointment with her. "I have an appointment with her. Can I wait here?" "No!" the receptionist snapped. "I already told you, she's not here. We're closed, so I'd like you to leave. Now." She pointed out the window in a matter of fact sort of way. It was then that the fancy screen showing products behind the receptionist's head flickered on, and showed an Asian woman, probably in her early 50's, cradling an arm sitting in an awkward angle against her chest, probably broken, and slamming the screen of the camera.

It was then it became clear to Zoë what exactly she had walked into. This woman in front of her wasn't a receptionist. She was a con artist of sorts, which was why all the leather and easily changeable appearance. Zoë knew the only way she was going to get out of here with that package was to keep the stupid woman attention off that screen. She had thankfully not noticed it yet. Zoë faked a heavy sigh and then said in a forced voice. "Thanks for your help. I'll come back tomorrow." She made to turn around, and then looked interestingly at the girl's hair. "By the way, that's beautiful pigmentation." She stared at Zoë bewildered. "What?" "Your hair. Beautiful pigmentation. What colour is that?" Zoë pretended to be truly curious about it, even tilting her head to study the sides. The con artist had no idea what to do, as she obviously wanted her out. "Uh...I don't-- I don't know. Just a standard shade that came with the...the implant. Listen, I--" Zoë cut her off before she could talk anymore. "It's really nice. Looks very good on you. I've been thinking about going blonde. What do you think?" Zoë stole a look at the screen, not thinking of going blonde ever, and noticed a bit of blood had started to sink through the woman's white suit on her arm. The con artist fumbled for an excuse to get out of the conversation, to gain the upper had again. "Well, maybe... Listen, I don't have-- I really need to get this done before I'm, uh, before I'm done, so--" What a horrible excuse. Cleverness was obviously not one of the job recommendations. "And I'm very sorry to keep you, but I really do need that package." Zoë pressed annoyingly, knowing she would get a repeat of earlier. The screen flickered once and then shut off. "I already told you several times, you'll have to come back tomorrow." The woman before her finally got pissed enough to remember her original excuse. Zoë gave her a smart look. "I'd get out of your hair quicker if you could just give me two minutes of your time." She put up two fingers to emphasize her small amount that she needed. "Really?" She doubted Zoë, but seemed to buy it anyway. Zoë pointed to the storage room on the left. "Could you just check in that room? Maybe Ms Chang left it in there somewhere."

The girl sighed exasperatedly and shook her head. "Fine. I'll take a quick look. But if it's not in there, you will have to leave. We really are closed." Zoë smirked and nodded her thanks, watching the other girl's leather clad body march angrily to the one-way door, clicking a button to open it. As she searched for a box with Zoë's name on it, Zoë snuck over very carefully and clicked another button, shutting the door and locking the girl in. In a few seconds, the con-artist realized her problem. "Hey. Hey! What the hell are you doing? Help! Kano! Kano!" she yelled to someone that was obviously there with her and banged on the door with all her might, but the door itself muffled the sound rather conveniently. Zoë, with a satisfied smile on her face, quickly ran to the computer and opened the doors that should lead to Ms. Chang. As soon as the opened, Zoë realized one of the other reasons that girl had wanted her out so fast. An illusion dropped, and there were red lights flashing, and a great sound that everyone in that time recognized as a biohazard. It wasn't in the hall way itself, that would mean the doors wouldn't open, but if someone important like say, Ms. Chang were subjected to it, it would look like an accidental death. Zoë wasted no time after these quick deductions and ran through the doors and down the hall. She was met with a huge room on the other side of a glass wall filled with red hazard lights, with a special chamber door system that had Helena Chang locked inside it, glaring at a man playing with the entrance door.

The man, presumably Kano, was dressed in leather like his friend, and had black hair implants kept in the old ponytail hairstyle. He looked at her quickly, and she could see some Italian descent there. He sneered at her and then ran out, pushing past her to go see what happened to his co-worker. Upon his leaving so quickly, Zoë went to go look at Helena through the doors of her "prison," and tried to find a way to unlock the door. After finding it was no use, Helena slammed her unharmed fist on the door twice to catch Zoë's attention, and the pointed to a device on the ceiling of her glass room. It was the power to the electronic door. Zoë nodded and looked for a way up there. To her left was huge container, probably holding special suits. She quickly hopped onto that, and then pulled herself onto the top of the glass cage, slinking on her stomach to not hit her head on the ceiling, to the power box. She could see Helena below her, making a "pull down" movement with her uninjured hand. Zoë nodded to her again and pulled the device's door off. Inside was a lever. She did as Helena showed her and pulled hard down on the lever. It took a couple seconds, but finally gave, and power to the box switched off. Now she had to get the doors open. They weren't going to slide open by themselves. She slid back off the top of the box and hopped down to help Helena push the doors open. She used her own body as a prop to keep the doors open as Helena rushed out under one of her arms, and Zoë let the doors go back together with a slam. Both of them were breathing too heavily to talk for the moment, and instead stared at each other, until finally, Helena broke the silence with a thankful tone. "Thank God. The gas was starting to leak through. Another few minutes--"

It was about then that Zoë found her own voice. "What just happened? Who were those people?" Helena shook her head and held her hurt arm, that sleeve nearly completely red. "This is neither the place nor the time for explanations. We need to leave. Now." Zoë nodded slowly, shaking starting to make itself known in her legs, and she helped Helena out of the corridor, and back into the lobby, where Helena let go of her and rushed to the receptionist's desk, quickly opening one of the drawers and pulling out a MediPen. She looked at the computer as she closed the drawer with a slam. "Someone's tampered with the system and blocked all access to this floor. I'll need to find a workaround." Zoë just stared at her stupidly, not really having an answer for that problem. Helena threw the pen at her, which Zoë caught a bit fumblingly, and tapped a few places on the computer screen. She then pointed at the elevator pad. "I've reactivated the manual override. Try the call button for the elevator. It should work now." Zoë ran to the consol and hit the call button, and sure enough, an elevator came. Helena was already on her way over. "Quickly, get into the elevator. We can't stay here any longer." Zoë nodded and hopped in, Helena coming in after her and slamming the button to the bottom floor. She then held out her hand for the pen.

A MediPen was an interesting device. They were also on the black-market for being a way to get rid of hospitals, and named dangerous by most of the government, despite the fact that all tests show they are completely trust worthy. Helena seemed to trust them well enough, she pulled up her the sleeve her arm to show a grotesque cut in her arm. Not thinking even twice about it, Helena clicked the pen once, and slammed it into the center of the cut, practically falling backwards at the pain of it. Zoë grabbed her shoulder to steady her. Helena gave her a pained look. "I probably owe you my thanks for saving my life." Zoë shook her head a bit. "I wasn't really thinking. I-- Look at me, I'm shaking!" She showed Helena her hand, which indeed was shaking, and tried not to puke from the slowly healing cut on Helena's arm. "That's just the adrenaline. It's perfectly normal." Helena said with a shrug. "Not for me. It's not every day that someone tries to kill me." The elevator landed with a thud on the bottom floor, at the taxi stop again. They exited together quickly and Helena rested on the side of the dome, Zoë pressing the button to call a taxi.

Helena sighed heavily and gave her a level look, taking the pen out of her now closed and scabbed arm, and pocketed it. "They weren't trying to kill you. They were trying to kill me. Now, who are you, and what were you doing in my laboratory?" Zoë gulped. "I'm Zoë Castillo. Are you Helena Chang?" Helena frowned a bit. "That's not--" Her eyes then widened. "Castillo? I see. Yes. Yes, I'm Helena Chang. How do you know my name?" Zoë thought of her answer carefully. It was not likely Helena here would know who Reza is by his real name. He probably told her his code name, which he always used with people he was getting information from. "I came by to pick up a package for a friend of mine. Jericho." Helena's frown returned as she took off her jacket and threw it into the garbage. "Jericho? I told him I wouldn't give the package to anyone but him." Zoë shook her head. "He couldn't make it. Didn't he tell you?" Helena shook her head. "I never got that message. Maybe it was intercepted. That would explain a lot..." She fingered her lip thoughtfully, and Zoë started to shake a bit again. "Look, I don't like this. Those people who tried to...to kill you, are they looking for Rez-- for Jericho, too?" Right then, a taxi arrived, and Helena shrugged and looked a bit distant, probably planning where she wanted to go. "I wouldn't know. But I need to leave right now. Here, take this." She took a package out of her pocket, and thrust it into Zoë's shaking hands. "Please deliver it to Jericho as soon as possible." Zoë nodded and clutched the package, having nowhere to hide it on herself. "What is it?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her again. Helena frowned at her deeply. "Information. He'll know what to do with it."

Helena then made her way to the taxi door, and Zoë knew that was the end of that conversation. Then she remembered something at the beginning of their conversation, and she put a hand on Helena's shoulder to steady her for a second. "Why did you react to my name earlier? Do you know my father, Gabriel?" Helena's frown disappeared for a second and she stared distantly at Zoë's hand on her shoulder. "Your father? No. No, I...I knew a Castillo once. A long time ago." Her eyes went cold again, and she shook Zoë's hand off. "I'm sorry, but I don't have time for chit chat. I have to leave." She quickly got into the taxi. She was just shutting the door when Zoë shouted at her "Wait, I need to ask you--" The taxi window rolled down. "Please deliver the package to Jericho right away. And thanks again for your help. I shall not forget it, Zoë Castillo." The window started to scroll back up, and the taxi started to move. "Hey. Hey, wait!" Zoë stomped her foot in mild annoyance and slapped the "Call Taxi" button. "Dammit. Reza has some serious explaining to do."

When she finally returned to the familiarity of her neighbourhood, still fuming a bit, but the adrenaline worn off, she marched her way back to the marketplace, and down a side road that lead to Reza's house. She had a full speech in her head ready to yell at him when he opened the door to his apartment. Zoë could handle being a messenger, but saviour she was not, and that encounter was enough adventure for her for well over a week. Maybe even her lifetime. One things ex-boyfriends should certainly not do was send their ex's into a near death experience. It was not decent, and now, Zoë could have to trained, but overly stupid, hit men on her butt. When she finally came to his apartment building, which was a minor work of art in itself, more made of suites then apartments, she marched up the stairs to the second floor, nearly knocked over a plant by trying to miss an old lady, and stopped dead when she reached his apartment doors. They were sitting wide open, the apartment doors looking kind of like closet doors, and there was a cat hanging around in it. The cat gave her a blank stare before hopping through an open window across from the doors. Zoë frowned. Reza didn't have a cat.

She slowly inched towards the door and looked in. Nothing looked out of place. And she didn't hear the music that Reza usually had playing in the background when he was home. It kept him calm. "Reza? Reza!" She sighed to herself, the silence moving her to speak aloud to herself. "He never leaves the apartment unlocked. This is weird." She inched in and didn't see anyone in his perfect little apartment. It looked tidy and normal as ever. Her anger caught up with her as she marched further in to see if he was hiding in the corner, and her eyes fell on hair on the floor, behind the couch. She sneaked a bit forward and screamed in shock. "Oh...my God." There was a dead woman lying there. Pale, veins all blue and popping out, and there was an odd device on the floor next to her. It looked like a simple plate, but in the middle was a little hole, and out of that hole stretched something that looked similar to a plant. Zoë ignored it by pushing it away as she fell to her knees beside the brunette girl, testing her neck for a pulse in a slight panic. Nothing. Her eyes finally came to the thing on the floor next to the pretty and dead girl, and then Reza's TV flickered on. The little girl seemed to be touching the screen and staring at her in alarm, and Zoë backed away by scuffling along the floor. "Zoë... Find April. Save April." Zoë shook her head a bit and then the screen changed. It showed the bottom floor through a surveillance camera.

Three men burst through the door, and Zoë's breath caught. "Those are...those are EYE commandoes. Downstairs." They were in full body armour, and were armed with wicked looking guns. "Shit," Zoë scrambled to her feet and ran out the door, knowing there was no place to hide in Reza's apartment. She was going to run to the other corridor across the way and pretend she had no idea what was going on, but then all three of them turned the corner and pointed their guns at her. "Hands behind your head!" One of them, obviously the leader, screamed at her, his mask making him sound computerized. Zoë started to lift her hand's slowly. "Listen, I--" She was too slow about it. "I warned you!" He then shot her. Something blue was sticking out of her chest, and it started to blur and sparkle as Zoë stared confusedly at it before everything went black.


End file.
